


онанизм

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: fictober 2019 [18]
Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Boris, Bottom Boris Pavlikovsky, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: He thinks of Boris - he thinks of Boris' angular face, his slim figure, his arched eyebrows, his hands, his - his lips.
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Series: fictober 2019 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506824
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106





	онанизм

**Author's Note:**

> [ title means masturbation so lol. ]

He is in college and he is too gone - he is too alone perhaps. Theo has lost track of days and nights and of when it is a dream, when it is a life he is open to. Theo doesn't know what's real anymore. 

Walking down his college hallway, Theo tries to think - tries to recall memories he isn't privy to in dreams, but all he finds are collages, are memories that feel like they have been stirred in his melting pot of a brain until he can't decipher if they are memory or dream. 

He thinks of Boris - he thinks of Boris' angular face, his slim figure, his arched eyebrows, his hands, his - his _lips_. He thinks of Boris on nights where he cannot sleep, on nights where his bed feels miles long. He thinks of Boris on nights where he can sleep, on nights where he feels the phantom of Boris' breath on the back of his neck like a massaging hand or he can feel the missing lanky limbs wrapping around his own frame. 

His mind creeps to Boris when he touches himself. He thinks of his friend's hands; of the slim digits only ever marred by cigarette burns - he thinks of the - _are these even fantasies anymore? Or are they past? Are they mixed painting "memories"?_ \- he thinks of these times where the image of Boris' hand wrapped around his cock seemed entirely too familiar. He thinks of how Boris' lips around a word - _English, Russian, Polish, French, any word_ \- and make it his own word when it comes back out. He thinks of the nights they would spend together; of those drug or alcohol-infused nights where Theo can only remember flashes. Can remember sliding into Boris, making them feel more than together. _Whole_, Boris had rasped once at after they were finished and Theo pretended not to notice the plain adoration in his best friend's gaze. Thinks of Boris' mouth on his neck as Theo thrusts, thinks of Boris' long legs wrapped around his hips, of his arched back into Theo's front and Theo never liked to take but Boris sure seemed to, of Boris' constant running mouth. Boris lost the words 'Potter' and 'T'eo' in the curve of Theo's collarbone. 

_'Moy возлюбленный_' is an affection he did not care to learn then. 

He wakes up, his semen an ivory trail tracing the places not only he has been but Boris, but it stains the sheets. And his bed is empty without Boris. 

Boris has always felt too dream anyways. 

Boris was his best dream yet, and his cruelest. 

He begins to take conversational Russian as though to drag the boy out of his dreams - he learns the words mean 'my lover'. 

Boris begins to feel less Dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please, leave me kudos or comments! I love them!


End file.
